


To Pretend

by catling (catsighs)



Category: Lobotomy Corporation (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, myo is a robotfucker haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 08:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20775584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsighs/pseuds/catling
Summary: Early morning games of make-believe between a mercenary and a once-great hero.For a kiss themed prompt request for twitter user @enerichu





	To Pretend

Some days Myo would get lost in their time together.

The facility itself never changed, but in the precious hours the two managed to steal away together, things were somehow different. It was never so much as if the rest of the world didn’t exist, more that Gebura’s presence somehow provided a rare space for her to dream.

Like now, with Gebura’s resting body curled closely against her back, the sensation of Gebura’s breath tickling the nape of her neck simply couldn’t exist. And yet, if she closes her eyes, she could imagine it so vividly that it’s like sparks over her skin.

In the restrictive single bed, Myo turns to look at her sleeping lover.

Lover.

Again, even that word was not something afforded to them here. It was an impossibility. But nonetheless, they had both decided to claim it as their own. Gebura had called it childish game of make-believe, but she remembered the rare expression of bashfulness on the woman’s usually stoic face when she had suggested it, and smiles to herself, running fingertips lightly along the Sephirah’s hairline, tucking messy synthetic locks behind her ear.

Of course, every expression the woman made now was the product of technological trickery, but Myo refused to believe that the sentiment was false. The goodness in Gebura’s heart, as in Kali’s, had always shone brightly through the cracks in whatever exterior she wore.

And her face, illusory as it may be, was as beautifully peaceful in sleep as it had been since that first night they’d shared together. Nostalgia sits heavily in her chest as she remembers how she had barely dared to even breathe, held tight as she was for safety and warmth in Gebura’s arms.

It had felt like a wishful daydream even then; one that she could shatter at any moment with even the barest movements. And perhaps the safety she felt when held close was nothing but a daydream, but even now that the Sephirah has no such warmth to give, Myo is happy to lend her own.

Gebura begins to stir as her fingertips continue to wander, leading an idle trail over broad shoulders, down the musculature of a battle-worn back, over many scars that were so pointlessly recreated on her new artificial form.

“Good morning, lazy ass.”

“Not morning. We don’t have morning here.”

The woman barely responds with words. It’s really more of a groan as she buries her face against Myo’s chest.

“Let’s just pretend we do, ok? Now what do you want for breakfast?”

The taller woman snorts dismissively.

“I don’t ea-”

A short pause, before she looks up to meet the scarlet of Myo’s eyes, and groggily continues with almost childish notes of embarrassment woven through her voice.

“I’ll have eggs. And bacon.”

Perhaps it was her imagination again, but Myo swears she can feel warmth under her fingertips now, as they rest on Gebura’s bare skin, tilting her face upwards and gently guiding her into a kiss. 

She knew it will have vanished by the time they part, but she can taste the smile on her lover’s lips, and that’s all the confirmation that she needs that this fragile world of make-believe is something precious, shared between the two of them.

“Yeah, ok. I think I can probably make that happen for you.”


End file.
